It's all about perfection
by thewildthingsarecoming
Summary: and there's just comfort, and this thing that might be love - LilyJames


It's all about perfection.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything in Harry Potter, from Harry Potter or you know anything else that the franchise may or may not touch.

Pairing: LilyJames.

It's all about perfection, that's what it's always been about (and when she says _it_, she means **everything**) and perfection itself is such a perfect word and the flawlessness of it all makes her want to scream and cry and simply give up. Because she has all of these aspirations and dreams and desires and she knows that she's just not good enough (that she's **never** going to be good enough) to make them come true. And she's tried so hard, spending her free time buried in spell- books one hundred times older then her and covered with dust so thick that she thinks that it's coating her lungs with a fine layer of poison (and who's to say that it isn't?), and staying away from the social side and ignoring him every time that he's asked her out.

And it's not because she doesn't want to be with him (hell she'd give anything to be with him) it's because she knows, deep down in her heart, that with his eternally messed-up hair and physique that all the boys crave after and all the girls lust and his smarts and that (heart-breaking) smile, and that (mischievous) twinkle in his eyes behind his glasses and....she could go on all day (and a bit longer), but she knows it won't help (it never helps). Because she knows that she's not good enough for him. Not perfect enough.

She's from a family of muggles where magic is the stuff of fairytales and when she goes home in the summer, she can see the looks of adoration on her parents faces because she knows that they're both proud and astounded by what she can do. And because she knows that she's been given an opportunity that so many people would die for (because yes, she can see the envy in Petunia's eyes every time they breathe the same air, and it kills her), she has to do whatever she can to make the most of it. She has to be the best that she can possibly be.

So if she doesn't sleep properly for a fortnight because she's trying to memorise several spell books, on top of the extra credit assignments and homework essays that are five times longer than they should be. Can you blame her?

And when she skips breakfast and lunch and barely makes it to dinner (she may have fallen asleep in the library again) because she's been busy brewing potions that even the teachers can't perfect and carrying out midnight experiments at the top of the astronomy tower (she's doing a project on lunar cycles). Is it her fault?

Her fault that the pressure from everybody (because everyone expects something and she doesn't know where to turn) and the stress of the work and her need for normalcy and own driving work ethic are pushing her so close to the brink of madness, that she's got this idea that perfection is something that she can actually achieve.

Crying in the library is how he finds her. She's broken and beaten down and her hair surrounds her face like a crimson raincloud. And because he doesn't know what to do (he's had this view of her in his head for so long now, that this vulnerable weak girl is nothing like the warrior princess he had her down as, and it's shocked him into silence), he puts his arms around her (like he's wanted to for so long) and just holds her tight. And for both of them, that's enough. The eerie invading silence of moments ago is gone, forced back by his golden presence, (and she's never been the damsel in distress type of girl, but for all her feminism she'd never tell him to leave, she needs him too much) and there's just comfort and this thing that might be love, but she isn't sure so she ignores the name and lets it envelop her.

She cries until her eyes are sore and her throat is hoarse, and it feels like hours have gone by (and honestly, they have) but he's never left her. He's just kept her in his arms. And now that she can think straight again, she doesn't feel any better because she can see all of his perfections and her flaws are on display and it's all she can do to keep the heartbreak from her face. She's ruined herself, ruined everything by giving in for one moment. And where does she go from here?

"Why do you do this to yourself?"

The words are quiet and soothing but underneath them there's some emotion (and it sounds a lot like tragedy) and his eyes are clouded over with what looks like pain, but for all her smarts she just can't understand why it's there.

"Why I do what?"

She's trying to avoid answering, trying to avoid releasing these secrets that she's been hiding for so long. But when she answers him, there's a quiver in her voice that by all rights shouldn't be there but she just doesn't have the will to straighten it out.

"Why do you work yourself into the ground," he whispers and her heart stops (because no one is supposed to know. No one is supposed to see just how hard she's working towards perfection) and she's wishing for him to stop but there aren't any stars in the library to fall for her, "why don't you eat, or sleep. Why you don't let anyone close to you."

She's frozen by his words, because this facade she's created of know-it-all, confident, brave, _Gryffindor_ Lily Evans is moments away from shattering into thousands and millions of tiny glimmering shards and finally revealing how unsure of herself she really is.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she tells him and she doesn't know how she did it, but that bossy tone that only she can manage is back and for a moment she thinks she's won.

"Lily-".

And embarrassingly, that's all it takes, him saying her name and she splinters and (shockingly) the tears come once more, and her lips form around secrets she's let cloud her heart for too long. And she tells him about her parents and her sister, and the teachers and herself. She tells him everything, how she's loved him for as long as she can remember and how sometimes she really wonders if this world is really as magical as it pretends to be.

And when she's told him everything emptied her very soul to him, there's nothing left but pain and heartache (because she's no way near perfect enough) and when he sees the agony on her face, he does the only thing in his power left to do. He kisses it away. And with each touch of his lips to her teary skin, he's making silent promises that they both know he'll do anything to keep. That they both know he'll die to keep. Because he never wants to see her in pain ever again.

"Did you mean it?" he asks her suddenly, "Did you mean it when you said that you loved me?"

She's got nowhere left to run and nothing left to hide behind (he knows everything about her now, there's nothing left to say) so she just nods, because there are no words that can describe the way that when she says love, she means adore (and every other word and beyond). And that when she said no to him, it was her fear and his arrogance, and those pointless, blazing, blaring lines of perfect that have held her for so long now.

And he's silent for a while, mulling over her words as if they're wine and he's a connoisseur, and she's not sure she can take it much longer. But then he hooks a finger under her chin and brings her (emerald) eyes to meet his and he's got this smile that tells her that everything is going to be okay (one way or another). And when he kisses her, the promises are still there, but it's his way of telling her, of showing her that there's so much more than that.

He pulls away from her, and just folds her into him, and her face is in the crook of his neck and she's never been happier (because if this is heaven she's not sure she deserves it) and he strokes her hair, and whispers into her ear.

"You don't have to be perfect you know."

And for a second there, she almost believes him. But she's had this conception in her head for so long now that she just can't force herself to listen to what he's telling her, because if all of this disappears she doesn't know what she's going do. And trying to reach perfection is safer than trusting this flawless boy with her heart (because it's not a toy that can be fixed if he breaks it).

"You don't mean that," she sighs and there's never been so much conviction in her voice.

"You need to stop thinking that you aren't good enough, and start thinking about whether perfection is good enough for you," he smiles, "because if I'm perfect then I'd hate to see what imperfect is, because it sure as hell isn't you."

There's that silence again (this time she's thinking over his words), but her mind is filled with so many new possibilities that she just doesn't notice... Because she's never thought of it that way, never considered that maybe, just maybe she doesn't have to be good enough. Just the best that she can be. But there's one thing holding her back, and it's that stupid, **stupid** fear.

"But what about you, don't you need perfection?"

And in those eight words, James finally sees exactly what the problem is, and he wants to laugh because he's been suffering from the exact same thing. And because he knows what she's going through, he knows exactly what to say to make the fears for away for her.

"Who needs perfect, when I have you."

(Because perfection is one of those imperfect things that no one can achieve, but everybody wants).


End file.
